


The Dress

by Vulpes86



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, green dress, kiss, pinning, why can’t I write them without angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 08:59:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15433521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vulpes86/pseuds/Vulpes86
Summary: Robin wears the dress to send Strike a message. Can the all star detective figure it out?





	The Dress

**Author's Note:**

> This idea just popped into my head and I just started writing and this is what happened. I hope you enjoy.

Son of a famous rock star, child of a infamous groupie, war hero, ex-fiancé of a socialite, star detective - showing up the Met on three separate occasions. Owner of a massive frame and memorable mug. Cormoran Strike was easy to remember, as was his partner, Robin Ellacott, with her fiery blond hair and charming personality. It was getting harder for them to snoop on people since they were becoming ever more popular, much to Strike’s dismay. But they could also easily find themselves in affluent circles, making it much less suspicious when they showed up at an exclusive party or gala. They were celebrities at this point, or at least interesting entertainment that celebrities loved inviting to parties. 

“Have you met Mr. Strike and Ms. Ellacott? They are dear friends of mine, helped my sister get out of her awful marriage.” Had been repeated so many times they had lost count. 

Tonight they did have a target and a case to wrap up, but as soon as Strike laid eyes on Robin he knew that was going to be much harder than originally thought. How was he going to be able to pay attention to anyone, anything, else that night? What was she thinking wearing that? He felt blush creep up on his cheeks as he held the taxi door open for her. 

She knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help herself. Tonight was the night. She knew they had some snooping to do, but she couldn’t wait any longer. She had been single for nearly a year, and Strike had tried desperately to be subtle about his affection towards her, but he was doing a terrible job at hiding it. She could see right through him. And while Robin had stopped short of throwing herself on him, he clearly hadn’t taken the hint that she was interested too. He’s too stubborn and too much a gentleman, she thought to herself as she combed mascara over her pale lashes. 

Over the last few months Strike had been lingering more, complementing her when he didn’t need to, buying her things, they were just small things, but he would always say: “This reminded me of you.” She touched the thin gold chain the hung around her neck, a small robin dangled from the middle, and she smiled at the memory. What an idiot, she thought affectionately. She took a deep breath and assessed her hair and make up, stood and smoothed out her dress. No more of this. Tonight he better make his move, or, or she wasn’t sure. He just _had_ to get it. He was a bloody detective for crying out loud!

She took one last look at herself in the mirror, was please and turned, excited to see the look on his face when she came out of her flat wearing the dress. She had never felt so beautiful. Even more than her wedding dress. This dress was meant for her. 

Strike stood by the car door, mouth slightly agape, unable to take his eyes off Robin as she descended the steps from her flat down to the street. She gathered the fabric up in her hand as she took the steps precariously in high gold heels. She smiled sweetly, innocently at him, but the look in her eyes said something else completely. She lifted a finger to the underside of his chin, shutting his gapingt mouth. “Evening,” she breathed as she got in the taxi. 

Strike shook his head and climbed in after her. He surely hadn’t seen a look of lust in her eyes. No, he had just imagined it, just seen what he wanted to see. This was a very fancy party, that’s why she wore the dress, that’s all. It was likely the nicest thing she owned, considering the pittenance he paid her. She certainly wasn’t wearing it for him. No.

“Looking sharp, Cormoran,” she smiled warmly. 

“You, ah, you too. Nice dress.” He smiled back. She looked slightly disappointed. “You, er, look beautiful, Robin.” He said to the back of the driver seat, rubbing the back of his neck. 

That seemed to appease her slightly and she settled back into the seat. She sighed and looked out the window. Maybe this was going to be harder than she thought. They still needed to get proof for their client, and that was her first priority, but her secondary mission tonight could not fail either. She didn’t think she could take their back and forth pining any more. 

~~~~  
Mission one was accomplished painfully easily. Robin followed the unfaithful wife into the ladies, listen - and recorded- her snorting an exorbitant amount of coke then telling her stallmate how she couldn’t wait to get back to her room with a man that was not her husband. She then proceeded to tell the other woman all of the things she was going to do to this man. Robin blushed slightly as some of the things the woman said that she had never even heard before. High as a kite, the wife stumbled out of the bathroom into the arms of her lover. Strike had been waiting for them and managed to snap a few photos of them in the elevator, all over each other. 

“Good grief. They weren’t even trying to hide it.” Robin said coming up behind Strike as he checked the photos he got on his phone. “The things she said she was going to do to him… I hope no one is booked in any room attached to theirs.” She shook her head and Strike snorted. “Shall we go enjoy the rest of the party?” She hooked her arm around his and beamed up at him. 

Strike cleared his throat. He had been planning on going back to his flat, taking off his damn leg and drinking until he fell asleep. Hopefully forgetting how stunning Robin looked tonight. “Er, sure.”

He lead her back out to the party and fetched a glass of wine for her, a pint for himself. 

“This will be a big pay off,” Robin said after thanking him for her drink. 

“Indeed.”

“So, do you have any plans for the rest of the weekend? With this case wrapped up we’ve got the whole weekend free! Been a while since we could say that.”

“No plans.”

“Do...do you want to dance?” Robin felt like she was grasping at straws, why couldn’t mission two go as easy as the first? 

“Er, alright. I should warn you though, I’ve only got one left foot.” Robin laughed at his self-deprecating humor, took his hand and lead him to the dance floor, where a slow swaying melody was playing. There were a few other couples enjoying the music. Several of them older, one younger couple making out furiously. 

Robin slid her hands up Strikes chest, linking her fingers behind his neck. Strike gently placed his hands on her waist, they almost seemed to hover, like he didn’t want to touch her. She tried gently to pull him closer, but he resisted. What the hell was going on? Was it all in her head? Had she imagined every lingering glance that made her blush, every extra touch that sent butterflies flitting through her stomach? She looked up at him, and he seemed to be looking everywhere but at her. Her stomach plummeted as embarrassment rose on her cheeks. She prayed the song would be over so it didn’t seem too dramatic that she wanted to stop dancing with him. 

God she was making this so hard. Every little thing she did that night made him want her more. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew she didn’t mean any of it. It was either for show, or she had had too much wine or something. He kept his hands hovering over her waist, careful not to go too high, or too low, or too hold tight, for fear he’d never be able to let go. 

They swayed to and fro and round in slow small circles. Strike fixed on a spot exactly five inches above and to the left of Robin’s head. Robin stared at his white button up, trying to decide if there was an old stain on the collar, food? More likely blood. Slowly her eyes meandered to his mouth, how badly she had wanted him to kiss her. Now she felt like an utter fool. Why would she think he liked her? After all he had been with celebrities, models, Swedish musicians. How was she to comparing to them? She couldn’t take it anymore. Her hands fell from his shoulders and she took a step back, it seemed to take Strike a moment to realize that she wasn’t in his grip anymore. 

“I...I’ll be right back. Or if you want to go I’ll get my own cab home.” She darted off in a seemingly random direction, unsure of where she was fleeing. 

“Robin?” He called after her, but she couldn’t hear through the pounding of her heart in her chest. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Robin found a balcony and burst through the doors just as the first sob escaped her lips. The chilly night air was a balm to the burning of hot tears and flushed cheeks. How could she be so stupid? And with her boss, her business partner? That could have been a colossal fuck up. She gulped down mouthfuls of cool air as she tried to clean up the damage she had done to her make up. _You idiot_.

Strike stood for a moment on the dance floor, watching Robin trying to run away in her heels and tight green dress. He watched as something small and gold slid down the side of her dress and fell on the floor. Robin didn’t seem to notice as she searched frantically for an exit. Slowly Strike moved from his spot towards the fallen object. He stared down at the ground, a small robin on a thin gold chain stared up at him. He bent down the best he could and scooped it up, it looked so small in his large hand. He looked up just in time to see a flash of green slide through a balcony door. _You idiot._

Robin hugged herself as she peered over the side of the balcony. She heard the door behind her open and close, but she didn’t care who it was, and she certainly didn’t care if it was Strike. 

“Robin.”

Her breath caught in her throat as she heard her name. She shook her head, her golden hair swaying back and forth, unable to turn and face him. 

“Robin.” He said again, so gently, so carefully, it was as if her name was just as fragile as the bird itself. “I’m sorry.”

She turned slightly to look at him, not quite able to read him in the dim lighting. 

“For what?” She croaked harshly. “For leading me on? For making me think you wanted... for making me want…” she wasn't able to say it out loud. 

Strike stood dumbfounded for a moment. She really did liked him? He took a step closer, she took a step back. Soon she was backed into a corner of the patio with nowhere to go. Strike stood hovering over her, finally able to meet her gaze, Robin unable to look away. He just stared at her, for what seemed like forever; Robin was sure he could hear her heart beating in her chest. 

“Robin, why did you wear that dress?” His voice deep and gravely. 

She didn’t answer, just continued to stare up at him, fizzing with emotion.

Strike rubbed a large hand over his face. “I’m sorry for being such an idiot.” He gave her a small smile. “Robin, I, I had no idea. I, god, Robin. I have spent so much time shoving those feelings down, trying so hard not to read into anything that you do. Knowing you just do nice things because you’re a nice person. So much time telling myself that you were one hundred and ten percent off limits, that I couldn’t see what you were trying to tell me. I just -“

“Shut up.” Robin said standing a little straighter. She was tired of talk. Strike looked taken aback. Here he was professing himself to her and she tells him to shut up? “Shut up and kiss me.” The look of disappointment on his face turned to shock to happiness. 

He happily obliged. His hand slid up her neck to cradle her face and back of head, his other arm around her waist pulling her in close. She gave a small gasp as her body collided with his. He moved his face closer to hers, stopping mere inches away, searching her eyes. This was it, what he had told himself he would never have, could never have. She stared back at him, determined and ready. She saw the desire and longing reflecting back at her. This was it, what she had wanted for so long. 

Gently his lips met hers, and her eyes fluttered shut. Slowly their lips moved over each others, slowly building in intensity and need. Robin’s hands moved from his waist to his chest to his neck to his rough stubbled face, pulling him closer to her. Her hips pressed into his, wanting to be as close as two clothed individuals could be. 

Hands roamed, tongues explored, hearts exploded. Finally after what seemed like hours and nearly not enough time, Strike broke free, resting his forehead on hers, both breathing hard. “Fuck, Robin…” his eyes were closed. He could feel her smiling as her fingers played with the tight curls at the base of his neck. 

“How did you not figure this out?” She asked after finally catching her breath. 

He groaned at the thought of all the missed time he could have had with her. “I already told you: I’m and idiot. I just never thought, I didn’t really think I was your type. Beautiful, young and intelligent going for grumpy, old bugger?”

“Never heard of Beauty and the Beast then?” She giggled as he frowned at her. “I see a brilliant, caring _man_. And this inexperience, heart broken, scarred girl is just plain smitten.” She smiled as she kissed him again. 

“So I’m the beauty, and your the beast?” Strike got out between kisses. 

“Shut up and kiss me.”

So he did.

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly don’t know why I can’t write their first kiss with out so much angst and drama. Everyone else, especially Lulaisakitten, writes the sweetest fluffiest most amazing first kisses and here I am all angst angst angst. Idk. Hope you enjoyed. 
> 
> Please leave comments! They are much appreciated!


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